Love Takes Your Breath Away Read online

  Love Takes Your Breath Away

  by

  Caleigh Hernandez

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 Caleigh Hernandez

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Cover art created by Christina Leigh Designs

  with Shutterstock image # 161278370

  Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics mentioned in the novella Love Takes Your Breath Away are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  The Promise of Forever

  ONE

  The Day After Forever

  TWO

  Breathless

  THREE

  Distractingly Stunning

  FOUR

  A Night of Surprises

  FIVE

  It’s So Hard

  SIX

  Saying Goodbye

  SEVEN

  Knowing Me

  EIGHT

  Distracted

  NINE

  Reunited & It Feels So Good

  TEN

  Home Sweet Home

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Dedication

  To my husband

  You know why!

  Prologue:

  The Promise of Forever

  “Edgar Allen Poe says that ‘life is but a dream within a dream,’ but you know my theory, Life is also a song waiting to be written.

  “Right from the start, you had this enigmatic pull on me. That wicked smile and mischievous glint in your eyes ensnared me in your gravity.” Diego flashes me that wicked smile. His copper-flecked russet brown eyes twinkling with that mischief. The consummate alpha male peeking through his gentleman appearance in his Dolce and Gabana tuxedo.

  I can feel my nerves settling into my profession of love. My voice finding the necessary strength to deliver my soul to its forever. “I’d never wanted anything so much…in all my life.”

  “There’s no secret that when you promised devotion you stole my heart. And even through the trying times you gave me reason…reason to believe we can learn. And again,” a hint of disbelief and wonder catching in my voice, “you had this invisible power over my heart and this inexplicable effect on my common sense.” I chuckle.

  “You showed me it wasn’t just chasing cars and forget the world.” He chuckles at the inside joke. “It was us against the world,” I continue. “Sure there will be days we’ll test the limits of true love.” I smile up at him. “But we know that if we don’t try there’d be no sunshine. Our blue skies would be grey and the music gone.”

  “Thank you for promising to try. For letting this little music girl drag you all over to explore the music history found buried in whatever town you were playing in. For indulging my need to express myself in song, even when my voice is shrill.” He tries to object. I stop it with the press of my manicured fingers to his lips. I can’t help the giggle he elicits when he stills my hand with his and presses a kiss to my palm, not mistaking the heated look he gives me over my fingertips. “Music is my life and I often march to the beat of my own iPod, and you let me. You became the chorus to my song.”

  “I’m never more myself than when I’m with you. Despite our mishaps and missteps, there was nothing I believed in more than you and the man you were meant to be. My Music Man.”

  “Today, I marry the man you were destined to be all those years ago. And that path to this man,” placing my hand over his heart, “to the here and now, has been a journey I’d gladly repeat in this life and any hereafter.” I can feel the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. “You’re still the one, babe.”

  “I promise to love you when your track skips and when your song starts to ebb. I promise to love you whether you’re offside or sidelined. I promise to be your best friend and your lover. The keeper of your secrets and the cure to your pain.”

  At this point, there’s a steadiness to the trickle of tears pouring from my eyes. I take a steadying breath. “I promise to argue my point and compromise when I can’t change yours. I promise to not stop our song because I’m not happy with the direction. I promise I’ll eventually recognize that sometimes I just have to let it play through. I promise to remember that our song is infinite…and that our love’s a twist fate and has beaten the odds.”

  “Diego Santo, with this ring I make you mine. I love you so much, so much.”

  Sliding the ring into place on his finger, a sense of euphoria washes over me. I look up to meet the most amazing sight. His dazzling wide grin is telling. He felt it, too.

  With a wordless cue from Elvis, Diego shifts and steadies himself to deliver his vows. Where I’m a ball of nerves and emotions, he stands cool and confident.

  “Izzy, from across that room in the crowded party, I was lost in your eyes. There was this spark I’d never seen before. You had this look that said you could take anyone on even though you were five foot nothing.” I can’t help the chuckle that slips. I definitely remember having that particular chip on my shoulder. “While my actions may have appeared otherwise, I was determined to make you mine. I may have even convinced myself you already were and you just didn’t know it yet.”

  “But, as we both know, it wasn’t going to start that night,” he winks. I blush recalling I was there with his best friend…his now openly gay best friend. Through my reverie, I faintly hear an “hmmpf” from Sebastian. “Of course, it didn’t take long before I found my way to cross your path again.”

  “From that moment on, I was driven to claim the greatest prize: you. You were my Champion’s Cup, the World Cup, and all the other Cups and Trophies rolled into one. Even with my foul play during timeouts, you were the end game,” he pauses.

  Looking up from the piece of paper with his scribbled vows, he looks at me with the intensity I’ve come to expect. “After our first date and all night phone call, I was hooked. You were the music I never knew was missing. I hung on your every word…even when it was to tell me you hated soccer, oblivious to my near rock-star status as our school’s top-scoring midfielder.”

  I can feel my cheeks heat with that tidbit. “In no time, I was declaring my devotion and love. I hardly recognized myself. And you were patient as I learned to be the man I wanted to be for you. Your faith in me was so unwavering,” I can hear the awe in his cracking voice. “Even when I deliberately tested boundaries and limits, you didn’t let me break you. You fought for us. Yourself. Me. Your love taught me to be a better man.”

  “Thank you. Thank you for saying yes to our first date. And the hundreds since. Thank you for loving me so unconditionally. So fiercely. It’s your fire that keeps mine going. Thank you for being my best friend and music guru. Thanks for l
etting me take the reins on some of our music adventures and for sharing that world with me…and encouraging me to find my own place in it.”

  Izabella Zoe, today, I promise to love you for eternity. I promise to try not to go to bed mad and I promise to make you feel special. I promise to tell you I love you every day for a thousand years. I promise to lift the seat and put it down and to take out the trash. I promise to make love to you when you need it and ravage you when you need that.”

  I vaguely register Elvis’, “Uh huh,” in the background. I think I heard Mazzy and Sebastian chuckle. I’m lost in his words.

  “Mi bella preciosa,” he switches to Spanish. I love it when he does that. “Eres la razón por la que mi corazón late.” I am the reason his heart beats. “Tu eres la música.” I am the music. “Contigo, soy un hombre mejor.” With me, he’s a better man.

  “Juntos, somos La Bella y El Santo.” Together, we’re the Beauty and the Saint. With his thumb, he swipes away the errant tears his vows have caused. He holds up my ring. “I give you this ring with all that I have, am and ever will be. I love you so much, so much.”

  Our not-so-hot Elvis officiate says some closing remarks about love, marriage and forever. They barely touch my thoughts; I’m holding my breath for the words that make this a done deal. Time seems to stand still as I get lost in Diego’s eyes.

  “With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may,” Diego’s sweeping me into a slow dip, his lips lingering above mine, “kiss your bride.” Diego’s lips are crushing mine in an instant. In the next, he softens the kiss, pulling back and resorting to slow licks of his tongue on mine, a deep swirl contributes to my headiness. Passion and promise oozing from his kiss, his love takes my breath away.

  Chapter One:

  The Day After Forever

  “Good morning, Mrs. Santo,” he coos at me as my eyes flutter open. He still has that kid-in-the-candy-store grin. I’ve got one to match.

  “Good morning, Mr. Santo,” I squeak out. My voice lost to the dryness of the AC regulated hotel suite.

  The late morning desert light is filtering through the cracks in the panels of the blackout curtains. I know somewhere beyond those drapes is the replica of the New York skyline. Flashes of last night stretch my already too-big-for-my-face smile. I reach my hands up and out from either side of my head. The groan coming from Diego alerts me to my state of undress and my now exposed breasts.

  I can feel the heat of his stare drawing on the nerve endings at my core. My eyes run the length of his torso, starting at the delicious “V” that’s peeking out the top of his warm-up shorts. Without thinking, my tongue darts to wet my bottom lip and, as it slips back in, I catch my bottom lip with my teeth. My eyes shoot to his when he stifles another groan and I realize what I’ve done.

  It’s habit. I do it when I’m resisting the urge to tackle this Adonis of a man. The sight of him is not something I’ll ever get over. And after eight years of dating, he knows exactly what I’m thinking with that one act.

  In my next breath, he’s robbed me of the bed sheet and replaced it with his long, lean, sculpted body. His mouth is on top of mine. His tongue dexterously plies open my lips and devours mine. With every plunge of his tongue, he strokes the fire that’s now a full on inferno between my thighs. He deepens the kiss…

  Knock. Knock.

  “Fuuuck me,” he draws out in frustration, looking beyond irritated. He rests his forehead to mine. “I arranged for them to make us breakfast, “he grits out. “What I didn’t plan was you looking tastier than any dish they could prepare.” I can feel his clenched jaw through the muscles in his forehead. He’s really having a hard time getting himself together. Having no intention of making it easy on him, I aim to make it “harder”.

  “Diego,” I purr as I arch my back up and into him, the sheet slipping down pooling at my hips.

  “Izabella Santo,” my married name rolling off his tongue like he’s been calling me it for a lifetime, not just the few hours it’s been true. Knock, knock. “You are a fucking tease,” he grumbles, pushing up and off me. He grabs his tank, begrudgingly leaving my very naked body in bed. I chuckle to myself. He makes me drunk with power.

  I close my eyes and stretch, smiling at the tightness and relishing the tug on my aching muscles. Last night’s acrobatics have me deliciously sore and oddly aching for another round.

  I had wondered if married-sex would feel different. An illogical thought, really. But holy shit it did! It’s as crazy as it sounds.

  There was a change in the charge between us. There were plans for a quiet in-suite dinner, but after the kiss that sealed the deal, we couldn’t resist the resurgence of the gravitational pull we had on each other. I couldn’t wait another minute to make love to my husband.

  His hiss breaks me from my reverie. “Bella,” he pleads, beautiful in Spanish, his nickname for me. “You really shouldn’t push me this morning,” he grits out. Whoops. I pull the sheet up. “After last night, I don’t think I’ll ever be done with your sweetness.”

  Ahhhh. The muscles in my core clench.

  “Now, por favor. Cover that which is mine while we have others in our suite.”

  It doesn’t escape me that he’s kept the distance between us since he’s returned. I spot my nightshirt, his old jersey, a couple of steps past him. I chuckle at the memory of how it got there. Coming back with midnight snacks, I undressed near the entrance deciding naked was the best way to serve the tray of sweets.

  Diego follows my gaze. Curiosity lifts his eyebrows. Mischief playing at the corner of my eyes and mouth, I tilt so they’re hidden behind my hair. Just one more poke at the raging inferno of testosterone in front of me.

  I throw back the sheets and leap from the bed. The girls bounce as planned, his breath audibly catches. Laughing, if only in my head, I strut my nakedness in all its glory past him. Bending at the waist and giving him an eyeful, I take my time grabbing my shirt. Without looking, I know I’ve done it. I’ve broken his self-control and it’s a mad dash to the bathroom, locking myself in before he can get to me.

  “I will make you pay for that, bella,” he chuckles into the door. I slide down the door with my back attempting to recover from the sprint and the silent hysterics I find myself in. “However, it will have to be later. We have guests and you need to eat for the punishments I have planned.” I can hear his smirk. I’m certain it’s my favorite: all mischief with a dash of “fuck me.”

  I slip on his old college jersey. The navy blue and gold fabric has seen better days. The number seven is all but gone, leaving behind a ghost of Diego’s favorite number.

  The jersey is long enough to be a dress on my tiny frame. I opt for a pair of my boy short panties and call me “Dressed.” I catch a glimpse in the mirror of my wedding dress hanging on the hook on the bathroom wall. I close my eyes. The one of a kind Oscar de la Renta dress was custom designed to show off the story told in ink across my back and down my arms. The sleeveless bodice, the short skirt and the long chiffon train in bright white the perfect complement to my golden olive skin etched with brilliant colors of the tattoos. The dress a reminder of what happened last night.

  We did it!

  Last night in front of Elvis, Mazzy and Sebastian, at the Little White Wedding Chapel, we got married.

  I look down at my heavier than usual ring finger. I remove both rings, setting the over-the-top engagement ring in the glass on the counter. Holding the platinum wedding band up into the light, I angle to read the surprise inscription. La Bella y El Santo. The beauty and the saint.

  Diego’s vows replay in my head. “Mi bella preciosa. Eres la razón por la que mi corazón late. Tu eres la música. Contigo, soy un hombre mejor. Juntos, somos La Bella y El Santo.” Then his words when we were alone. He slid the rings from my tiny fingers and showed me the delicate engraving of what he calls us. “Izzy it’s not just forever, it’s for always.”

  I finish taming my hair looking less the wild bush wo
man behind a mass of dark chocolate waves and brush my teeth.

  Double-checking the coverage of the jersey over my backside in the mirror, I open the en-suite bathroom door. I’m hit with an aroma blast of java. The scent grabs me and leads me to its proffered bliss and into the arms of my beloved. My heart swells. He chose me. The dining area coming into view from the long hallway, my uncontrollable smile returns. My husband.

  Ever the specimen of perfection, my eyes instinctively zero in on my man. My husband. My forever. His shit-eating grin has me scanning in the direction of the kitchen.

  Oh. Em. Gee. He didn’t.

  There, with daggers shooting from his eyes glaring at Diego, is Sebastian...Diego's over-the-top gay best friend and chef extraordinaire from Project Mayhem, Vegas’ top restaurant. Sebastian's disgruntled expression only confuses me further.

  As I continue to scan the expanse of the dining and kitchen areas, I discover the rest of the staff Sebastian brought with him. Consisting of two young twenty-something’s, one is this cute little blonde girl and the other this edible cabana-boy-esque man candy...and they're both gawking in the direction of Diego.

  Ha ha!

  That explains it. Glancing back at Diego. Yup, he's still grinning like he won.

  Shaking my head, I register the absence of the tank top he donned as he was leaving our bedroom. I can no longer keep my amusement to myself. Catching their attention with my giggle, both my boys snap their heads from their staring match to face me. Diego looks pleased as shit with himself. Sebastian's exaggerated pout tells me all I need to know. Dollars to donuts, he brought the young man candy because he's his newest boy toy or about to be.